


The Devouring

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, POV Second Person, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-22
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone makes Remus very happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devouring

You're kneeling on the floor between his legs, your head resting on his bare thigh. You're stroking the inside of his other thigh, tracing random designs on the tender skin there. You smile when his breath catches when you touch that certain spot - the one that never fails to make him instantly hard.

As your hand inches up his thigh to his groin, his breath quickens.

"Please..." Remus says with a breathy moan, his body arching towards you, barely perceptible but for a slight quiver of muscles. You turn your head then to watch as your hand cradles his balls, lifting them, pulling them, rolling them in your palm. His arse muscles are clenching and unclenching and his hands grasp the edge of the couch so tightly that his knuckles are white. You can just barely see his face, scrunched up in concentration, the view obscured by the dark, gauzy veil of your hair.

You wrap your other hand around the shaft of his cock and move your mouth directly above it.

"Yes..." The 's' comes out in a long, drawn-out hiss as you press your thumb against the base of his glans and blow into his slit. You sample the fluid that has gathered there, closing your eyes and moaning at the taste of his salty pre-ejaculate on the tip of your tongue. You tighten your lips around his cock and take more of him in, as far back in your throat as possible, easing back when it gets to be too much. You consciously relax and begin to move your head up and down, massaging him with your lips and tongue. At the tip again, your bottom teeth graze against the bundle of nerves there, and then you bathe the head with your tongue, before opening wide and swallowing him to the root.

He's grunting now and thrusting into your mouth. Gripping his hips, you hold him down until he stills, and then you swallow around him, your throat muscles working his head. He murmurs your name and places both hands on your head, running his fingers through your long hair and stroking your scalp.

Stilling for a moment as well, you devour him not just with your mouth, but with all your senses - the taste of his seed on your tongue, the scent of soap and musk clinging to his skin, the sight of his face flushed with pleasure, the sound of his laboured breathing, the feel of his silky cock in your mouth. You think of nothing but him, of pleasing him, of marking him, of getting under his skin to the essence of Remus.

Slipping between your legs, your hand takes hold of your own cock. You squeeze it, just a little too tight, just a little too rough, and start to rub, grinding your hand against the sensitive tip. You start to move your hips, imagining it's his hand on you, your cock filling his hand like his is filling your mouth.

"Don't touch it." His voice is harsh and commanding, and immediately you release your prick with a groan, but not without teasing the head one last time.

"Hurry."

His hands tighten in your hair and you oblige, letting him guide you and determine the speed. Your mouth glides up and down his shaft while your fingers play hide-and-seek with his tightening balls.

"Don't swallow," is his only warning. You pull up until just his glans is in your mouth, your tongue stroking his tip as he begins to shoot, hissing your name. Even though you try to hold his come in your mouth, some of it leaks out and dribbles down your chin. Looking up, you see him watching you with hooded eyes; he reaches down and wipes away his seed with his thumb, bringing it up to his mouth to suck it clean. Then he drops to the floor and leans forward to lick your face clean.

His tongue teases your lips open and he seals his mouth over yours. You pass his come into his mouth, and he pulls away. He doesn't swallow either; instead, you moan as he sticks two long fingers in his mouth, preparing them, as you suspect, for your pleasure. Using magic would be easier, perhaps, but Remus likes to do this the Muggle way.

"Lie down," Remus says, licking the remaining fluids from his lips. Slipping a throw pillow under your hips, you spread your legs and wait, itching to touch your leaking erection, but you don't dare.

His finger slips into your crack and breaches the ring of muscle, massaging and stretching your hole. Another finger joins the first, loosening you even more, until both saliva and come-slicked digits move in and out with ease, making you twist and moan. He takes hold of your cock then and begins to stroke. White-hot pleasure explodes behind your eyes as his fingers find your gland. You move your hips with abandon, up into Remus' fist, down onto his fingers, again and again. He doesn't try to control you or make it last. He wants to see you come with his name on your lips, your seed covering his hand. And so you do.


End file.
